Since the Eclipse Appeared
Elijah, a youth starved for the love and affection his parents had abandoned for their new families, found solace only in the meager financial support they sent and the companionship of his friend, Emily. He wasn't truly sad, not yet. He had Emily.
Then came Christmas Eve. The sky fractured, a monstrous eclipse bleeding crimson across the heavens, staining the world in a horrifying, unnatural light. It was the moment everything changed.
Emily remained, outwardly the same. But she wasn't Emily anymore. Something… else… inhabited her shell.
The world twisted. Faces shifted, bodies contorted, morphing into grotesque parodies of their former selves. People weren't changing; they were being replaced. One moment they were there, vibrant and familiar; the next, gone—erased from existence, their memories swallowed by the encroaching crimson tide. A blink, and they were gone. Vanished.
What were these things? These… replacements? These monsters that wore the faces of loved ones, mimicking their mannerisms, their voices, their smiles—a chilling imitation of life itself. The question clawed at Elijah's sanity, a terrifying riddle with no answer, only the ever-present dread of the next disappearance, the next horrifying transformation, the next empty space where a cherished face once resided. The blood-red sky was a constant, suffocating reminder of the monstrous truth: nothing was as it seemed, and no one was safe.
